


Slow Down

by sleepypercy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Overly-Sentimental Vampires, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possible Dub-Con, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1603517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepypercy/pseuds/sleepypercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny likes to take things slow. Much to Dean's frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Down

**Author's Note:**

> Another one I wrote a year ago (or so) and finally made an ending for. Much love to deansdirtybb for the beta! Also, this rounds out all my pairings for the trio in Purgatory. I don't know if anyone's still interested in reading Purgatory fics, but every once in a while I still get an itch.

The thing about Benny is, he likes to take things slow. He takes a sick, Louisiana-paced satisfaction out of taking Dean apart _piece by fuckin’ piece._ Moves lips and hands and teeth molasses-slow up and down Dean’s body until Dean turns into a shaking, sweaty, desperate mess, spewing pleas and blood-laced threats that the vampire pointedly ignores in favor of more unhurried torture. Then – because Benny’s a damn sadist – after he finally allows Dean to come with a fleeting brush of his hand against Dean’s cock, he forces a semi-coherent Dean to the ground so he can lick up every sweat drop and smear of come from Dean’s belly like they’re not surrounded by danger and monsters on all sides, the blood of a fresh kill still wet underneath their fingernails.  
  
Dean hates it.  
  
Hates being pinned against a tree, bark itching his stomach through his shirt, his hands locked behind his back where Benny’s got them twisted with one hand while shoving his hard, uncompromising body into Dean’s to keep him in place. Hates that while he’s caught between trying to rut backwards into Benny’s dick or rocking forwards to try and get some friction on his own, Benny grabs Dean’s torso to keep him still, his thumb gently rubbing the sensitive edge of Dean’s hip. That soft, stroking pressure always manages to take the punch out of Dean’s immediate fight. It makes him forget – just for a minute – that all he wants is a fast-and-dirty fuck, just wants Benny to shove his cock so hard and deep into Dean that he can’t remember his own name, much less the name of the hell-adjacent-hole they’re caught in.  
  
Dirty fucker that he is, Benny starts moving his hand across Dean’s hip. Skates down to dip inside his pants, following the line of his pelvis down just long enough for Dean’s eyes to roll into the back of his head. Then, chuckling, he drags his fingers _up_ , jumping Dean’s bellybutton and skating circles up and down Dean’s chest and stomach until Dean’s shivering and vibrating and horny as hell.  
  
“C’mon, you fuckin’ tease,” Dean grits out, so frustrated with this game. Some answering hum sounds from behind his ear as Benny’s hand lightly brushes a little higher, tweaking Dean’s nipple, stopping to rub against it in delicious, smooth friction, and Dean’s head falls forward. “I hate you,” Dean manages to growl out. “Shoulda sliced your head off days ago.”  
  
“Now, sweetheart, I know you don’t mean that,” Benny croons, gripping tighter as Dean starts struggling again, pissed off even more about all the endearments he insists on using. He’s not sure if they’re meant to embarrass or arouse or if they’re just a second-nature impulse. Dean’s head jerks back in an attempt to head-butt Benny from behind, but the vampire’s already familiar with Dean’s best tricks and evades it easily. His cool hand comes up to wrap around Dean’s neck, forcing his head back against Benny’s shoulder, and his other hand puts a light pressure against Dean’s belly, pulling all his curves tight to Benny’s body.  
  
“Now why would you wanna go cuttin’ off this head when we both know you got all kinda uses for it,” Benny continues with a lazy smirk in his voice. His smug tone reminds Dean of the few times Dean was able to overtake Benny, when he’d managed to either get the first jump or Benny had decided to lie back and let Dean have his way for once.  
  
The last time, Dean had wrestled Benny to the ground, shoving him right into the dirt and leaves. The man had chuckled and grinned wide at all Dean’s spitfire cursing as Dean fumbled Benny’s pants open just wide enough to pull out his thickening cock. As soon as Dean had worked the man hard enough to serve his purpose, he’d impaled himself deep, riding Benny hard and fast, head thrown back and nails digging into his chest while Benny held Dean’s hips and breathed out all sorts of useless shit about how _beautiful_ Dean looked like that, warm and _so fuckin’ pretty_ , calling him _sweetheart_ and other saccharine things until Dean finally bent down to shut him up by shoving his tongue in his mouth.  
  
Honestly, Dean would never have guessed that the sappiest fuck he ever had would be with a vampire in the middle of Purgatory. But that’s just his life.  
  
The hand that Benny’s currently got around Dean’s torso moves down to unbutton his jeans, fingers shoving the zipper down, and Dean rolls against that touch, more than eager for the feel of a hand on his dick.  
  
“We’ll get there,” Benny assures him, words stretching out like honey, mouth pressed hot against Dean’s ear. His lips trace down Dean’s neck, stopping to press against every other freckle. “I’ll get you there, don’t you worry. Just wanna feel you a little while longer.”  
  
“You’ve been feelin’ my ass for fifteen damn minutes,” Dean answers through his teeth. “You ever gonna get to actually sticking your dick up there? Or are you planning on coming in your pants like a teenage first date?” But then Benny’s hand finally goes around Dean’s cock, and his ass automatically tilts, feeling Benny’s hard-on rutting against him while his thumb slides over the head of Dean’s prick. Precome starts drooling from the slit in long, eager runs that drip over Benny’s knuckles, smoothing out the slide. Dean’s muscles go tight just as Benny turns Dean’s head to the side so he can press into his mouth, still taking his sweet time, teeth catching on Dean’s full lower lip, sucking it in and softly kneading it between his front teeth.  
  
Dean’s never been quiet during sex, always too caught up in physical sensations and pleasure chemicals running through his body, everything in him narrowed down to chasing that pleasure as far down as he can go before it swallows him whole. Benny lets those sounds go for just a little while, sharp gasps and punched out whines, before he clamps his hand over Dean’s mouth.  
  
“Shh…” he warns against Dean’s cheek, facial hair sliding against Dean’s smoother skin. “You make such lovely sounds, _cher_ , but I don’t fancy having any of those beasties’ cousins looking to pick up the fight we just ended.”  
  
Dean nods a little, eyes fluttered up because he’s in the point of no return, lost in the feel and rhythm of sex. But then suddenly he’s yanked to the ground, gravity torn out from under him as he puts out his hands, just manages to catch himself from falling facedown in the dirt. Benny’s warm and solid behind him, urging Dean on his hands and knees, pulling him up with an arm around his torso. His other hand’s gone lower, yanking Dean’s pants down to his knees then sliding up around Dean’s ass, feeling all that warm, flushed skin.  
  
All at once, Dean’s painfully hyper-aware of himself – body pressed into the rich, dark soil, about to be shamelessly fucked from behind like an animal, and he can feel his pulse kicking up a notch from the humiliation of it all. Only he _knows_ Benny’s got him, that Benny’s all-too aware of the effect of making Dean bend over and take it like this, dirty and frenetic. How Dean’s cock is already throbbing hotter, his hips swaying against Benny, desperate to feel him inside.  
  
Benny shoves Dean’s shirt up high, rucks it under his arms, and leans down to press his chest against Dean’s back, his pants shoved just far enough down to get his cock out. They’re practiced in this, know how to make it good, have learned to prepare. Dean can feel Benny’s hand shift to reach into his coat pocket, pulling out a bottle of oil he keeps around for cleaning weapons and fucking with.  
  
It’s not something they always use. Benny understands the times Dean needs a little more friction and pain, and he’ll shove himself inside Dean with little more than Dean’s spit dripping off his cock. Dean’ll grind back into the heat and Benny will oblige every hoarse, frenzied demand so that Dean wakes up later with bruises on his hips and a series of red handprints scattered across his ass; but the soreness of that, the pain, lets Dean cling to its grounding reality. Helps him face another endless day in this dark pit.  
  
Mostly, though, it’s just about feeling good. So Benny opens up the container and slicks up his fingers, rubbing them together before sliding right into the furled pucker of Dean’s ass.  
  
Dean doesn’t need a lot of prep; Benny opens him up nearly every day, it’s their only distraction from the bleakness of this place, and besides that, it’s damn good sex. From the go, their dynamics clicked in a way that was almost embarrassingly easy, Benny instinctively getting Dean, understanding how to sift through all that bullshit to get to what’s real.  
  
As soon as his fingers leave Dean’s ass, Benny’s cock presses in, filling Dean inch-by-inch as Benny’s hand rub circles against Dean’s belly. Huffing irritatedly, Dean shoves himself back, meeting Benny’s measured thrust and groaning when his cock shoves in deep, twisting his hips backwards until Benny’s tight against Dean’s ass. He loves this feeling, being stretched open, so full and hot inside. And then Benny grips Dean’s hips, changes angles, and Dean moans louder when he hits that spot inside just right.  
  
“Gotta keep quiet, sweetheart. Remember yourself,” Benny chides softly. His arms slide higher, body adjusting until he’s pressed along Dean’s back, Dean spread on the ground and Benny covering his mouth so he can start fucking in harder. Dean keens with every thrust forward, mouth wet against Benny’s hand, hearing the slap of flesh hitting flesh as Benny starts fucking into him in a strong, steady cadence.  
  
Putting his head down, Dean begs Benny to go faster, harder, and despite Dean’s words being muffled by the fingers against his mouth, Benny seems to understand. _Finally_ gives Dean what he wants.  
  
By the time Benny comes with a deep grunt against Dean’s neck, mouthing the dip where the cervical spine ends, Dean’s completely undone, lost inside his own body with the overwhelming cocktail of chemicals that skitter aching pleasure across his nerves. Benny’s hips snap hard as he comes wet and deep inside Dean, one arm stretched around Dean’s chest while he breathes against skin peppered with honey-colored flecks. He holds Dean tight for a few minutes more, panting and satiated and coming down from the high of orgasm. But when Dean lets out a small keen, body rocking and seeking friction, he rolls off, turns Dean over, and catches Dean’s full cock in his mouth.  
  
Dean’s hands immediately scratch against Benny’s scalp, holding onto the sides of his head and just trying to keep himself together while Benny hollows out his mouth and sucks until Dean’s eyes roll into the back of his head. His hand trails down to cup Dean’s balls, kneading them almost absently while his tongue slides up the side, pressing into the sensitive area just under the head that makes Dean have to bite his own hand to stop from shouting loud enough to alert every monster in the area.  
  
When Dean comes, it almost hurts with how good it is, how Benny’s mouth stays tight on him the whole time, greedily swallowing down every drop that Dean shoots off. He claims to like the taste, and Dean’s usually too blissed out to question it, although he assumes it has something to do with the vampire’s taste buds being attuned to human fluids.  
  
When Benny pulls back, licking his lips, Dean sighs and lets his head fall back, loving this moment, when everything sort of falls away, leaving him with no thoughts and no feelings other than the residual bliss of orgasm.  
  
Eventually Benny brushes himself off, adjusts his clothes, and stands up. He waits for Dean to do the same before helping him up as well, crushing his mouth to Dean’s one last time while Dean’s still too lax and filled with endorphins to think about stopping him.  
  
Eventually, the world comes back into sharp focus, everything around them tinged in endless gray, the sky perpetually dark and the background always vaguely wrapped in fog. It’s still Purgatory, and Dean knows he’s got a lot more blood and gore to wade through before he can claw his way out of here. Part of him doesn’t even mind it, likes the easy satisfaction that comes with killing without remorse. Sometimes it scares him how easily he’s adapted to the ultimate game of survival of the fittest. But he also knows, for all his frustration with Benny’s damn insistence on making this more than just a fuck in the trenches, that it’s one of the few things that tie him to his humanity. Which he’s gonna need when he finally makes it back home to his little brother.


End file.
